


setting fire to our insides for fun

by whalesongs



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalesongs/pseuds/whalesongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry styles is the hufflepuff pining after a blue eyed slytherin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	setting fire to our insides for fun

**Author's Note:**

> basically just a harry potter/1d one shot featuring a blow job. first time writing 'smut' but hope you enjoy :)  
> title was taken from the song youth by daughter

perhaps if the quidditch pitch was bigger, harry might be capable of taking his eyes off a particular slytherin boy with warm skin and bright eyes. but then again, it’s hard to take one’s eyes off louis tomlinson in general, his cheerful smile and name plastered over half the school. he was quidditch prodigy. and it definitely could not be ignored the purity of his blood, not when it practically ran on the outside as well as the in. he was gorgeous, in all ways known to harry. anyone would have to be blind not to notice. or maybe just plainly straight.

louis looks close to invincible on his broom, swooping and ducking quickly after the snitch, proving himself as slytherin’s best seeker in years and with just twenty minutes until the sport was about to begin, harry’s bones were rattling in his skin with excitement mixed with something that felt a lot like nerves.

“why don’t you just talk to him?” zayn asked, nodding towards louis chatting with his teammates just metres away as the two friends made their way towards the pitch. harry rolled his eyes, flicking away his curly hair that’s continuously being blown messily over his eyes by the cool morning breeze. he’d heard this before, zayn constantly insinuating harry’s embarrassing shyness around louis, and each time he’d tried to ignore exactly how accurate his best friend was.

“i can’t, zayn.” harry groaned, forcing his gaze away from louis and his friends.

“why not? just walk over and say hi. wish him luck or something,” zayn suggested, “and maybe he’ll let you give him a quickie before the game starts.”

“sod off.” harry muttered, shoving zayn in the shoulder.

“hey, i’m only trying to boost your game.” zayn teased, nudging harry back playfully.

“he probably doesn’t even know who i am, anyway.” harry admitted, scuffing his feet along the grass.

zayn halted to a stop, grabbing harry’s arm and pulling him around to face him.

“harry, for merlin’s sake, you’ve been pining after this guy since third year. don’t you think it’s about time you talked to him?”

in any other case harry would gladly strike up a conversation with someone new. but louis, man was he something else, completely new territory and certainly no newbie in harry’s mind. he walked with confidence. but if typical slytherin traits were true, then louis didn’t nearly live up to the house’s negative reputation. harry was still entranced. however, despite that, he’d never think of himself to be able to talk to louis. after all, he was just a small hufflepuff boy. merely dust in louis’ eyes.

“i have talked to him.” harry argued weakly. zayn raised an eyebrow, amused expression.

“stuttering a pathetic ‘no worries’,” zayn raises his pitch mockingly. “when he asks to borrow a quill in potions does not count as talking.”

“but –“

“look, if you don’t talk to him, i’ll drag you over there myself and tell him all about your unhealthy obsession.” zayn threatened, but despite smiled fondly at harry, knowing he’d have to agree with zayn at some point.

“you wouldn’t.” harry frowned. “and i’m not obsessed!”

chuckling, zayn continued walking, harry stumbling slightly on his own feet as he attempted to catch up.

“it’s not all that bad, harry. all you have to do is introduce yourself, wish the guy good luck. not that they need it. bloody cheats.”

“he’s not a cheat.” harry exclaims and zayn raises his eyebrows. “besides, it’s not that easy. what if he tells me to piss off?”

they were gradually approaching the stands, the flags of gryffindor and slytherin already being waved back at forth.

“wouldn’t surprise me.” zayn teases, before his expression softens. “how about this, if you can wish him luck for the match, then i’ll do your potions homework for an entire month.”

“but you’re terrible at potions!“

“true. how about i shout butter beers for the next month?”

“tempting, but –“

“harry styles, if you don’t grow a pair and go speak to that boy then i swear i will slip puking pastilles into your breakfast every morning! i bet he’ll notice you when you’re as green as an apple and throwing up into your cauldron.”

when harry first told zayn that he preferred-to be blunt- dicks to chicks, he’d been prepared for the worst. to his surprise, and embarrassment for keeping it hidden for so long, zayn treated him no different than before. and when zayn took those extremely rare moments to help harry be happy, it was so hard to say no.

“remind me again why you’re a hufflepuff? i’m beginning to understand why snape has a soft spot for you. ” harry said, sitting down next to zayn in the stands.

“i’m kind at heart.” zayn grinned cheekily. “so, is that a yes?”

harry sighed, ruffling curls away from his face, his knee jiggling nervously. zayn peered at him expectantly. fuck it. and before he knew it, he was agreeing.

“fine.”

“go on, then. they start in five.”

harry had no idea what he was doing. but regardless, his legs were moving quickly and with a glance over his shoulder, he could see zayn in the stands giving him a cheeky and somewhat teasing thumbs up.

louis was even more intriguing up close. his skin was much darker than harry’s and reminded him of golden summer days, when the sun felt like it was burning for weeks on end. how cliché, comparing the boy he’s fancied for three years with summer. unsure of how to get louis’ attention, he cleared his throat and tapped the boy on the shoulder with a scrawny and shaking hand. louis swivelled around quickly, the smile once before on his face fading as he laid eyes on harry and –

“hi.” louis frowned slightly, silently questioning harry’s approach.

“erm, hi i-i’m harry.” and if the ground didn’t swallow him this moment, then he was sure embarrassment would. at least, he was hoping. his cheeks warmed unwelcomingly and oh god, he was blushing in front of the schools hotshot. what was he, twelve? he was sure he’d fucked up now.

but, to his surprise, and anyone else who could be witnessing the conversation – could he even call it a conversation? – louis’ lips pressed together in a smirk, shifting his weight onto his right foot.

and fuck, if harry’s cheeks weren’t red as blood before then they sure were now.

“i know.” louis replied, shrugging as if harry introducing himself was the most natural thing. “you’re harry styles. hufflepuff. we’ve had potions together since third year.”

harry gaped, surprised to the core. well that was unexpected.

“y-yeah.” he breathed, and with the tiny ounce of courage he had left he took the plunge. “i just wanted to say good luck. for the game. i’ll be cheering for you.”

louis raises an eyebrow and harry is hit with the sudden realisation of what he’s said.

“no, uh–well i mean i’ll be cheering for the team. everyone will be. well, not everyone. obviously not those in gryffindor. and if you don’t win, well, that’s okay too. it’s not your fault. so don’t worry about that part.” his words jumble around in a cover up attempt. but louis’ still got that amused look on his face.

“right.” louis says, the smirk on his lips making harry’s knees jitter. “thanks.”

they stand there awkwardly for a moment, harry rocks on the back of his heels, not realizing time’s actually passing because now harry’s looked into those blue orbs he feels there’s no going back. but there’s a tug on louis’ shirt and a short blonde –niall, he remembers- tells him they’ve got two minutes and that’s enough to string harry back down to reality by the hairs on his head.

“well,” harry begins, trying not to let his nerves break through into his tone. “good luck, again.” this time he sticks out a hand, his long skinny fingers sitting in mid freezing air, offering a handshake. pathetic, really. he wonders how on earth zayn considers him ‘the charmer’ of the two.

louis chuckles lightly and it’s a sight harry wants to capture, store somewhere safe where he can always look back on it, like when it’s dark and he needs a little light.

he’s about to turn away when Louis leans forward, body closing in on harry, making his skin burn under layers of clothing. his lips meet harry’s ear and he feels louis’ warm breath tickle his neck before he speaks.

“meet me after the game behind the north towers.”

then he’s gone, lost amongst green and silver. harry takes a good minute to find his breath again.

-

he practically stumbles towards the towers, his shoes now soaking from the wet grass. his hands are jittery in his pockets and he sighs dramatically when he finally reaches the wall, leaning hard against it, breath foggy from his lips.

he considers leaving, turning away and pretending he’d never spoken to louis in the first place, because really this has to be a joke. it’s too completely unusual to be believable. there’s so many unanswered questions running through his mind, but the one he can’t seem to come unstuck from is why someone like louis tomlinson, bright blue eyes and chirpy grin, would want anything to do with harry, boring huffelpuff who’s all lanky limbs and curly hair.

it feels like hours, when in reality it’s barely twenty minutes, before he hears rustling from his left, the sound of someone getting closer. he shoves his hands in his pockets, first instinct of at least making himself seem less… nervous.

louis appears in front of him soon enough and the breath is knocked from harry’s chest quickly, leaving him frozen and despite his skin ice cold, his cheeks burn red. again.

“you came.” louis says and harry can’t help but notice it sounds a lot like he hadn’t expected harry to show.

“erm, y-yeah.” he stutters. he swallows hard and tries to muster up some courage because louis’ just standing there staring, smirk and eyebrows raised like harry’s a strange new species.

“enjoy the game?” louis asks, rocking on his heels. so is this it? this is what the famous louis tomlinson wanted with harry styles, to ask him if he enjoyed the quidditch match. oh.

“yeah. you did well.” this is his attempt, he figures, at sending the conversation in a new direction. somewhere he hopes louis wants to go, even if he’s not sure he really feels like going there himself.

“were you watching me?” louis’ tone changes, lowers, and suddenly harry’s in a whole new situation. he feels small, despite towering over the blue eyed boy, and louis’ like this fucking god in front of him.

“well,” his eyes dart to their feet for a moment, then back to blue ones. “of course. you’re slytherin’s best player.”

“that’s what they call me.” louis winks. and oh, now harry’s getting the second meaning. maybe he was asked here to join in one of louis’ little games.

“oh.” is all he can manage. pathetic, really.

“oh?” louis takes a small step forward, feeling like an entire leap to harry because shit now he’s really close and harry barely has room to breathe, sucking in short breaths every second he can. but honestly, he’s not complaining.

he’s so obvious. how could anyone not look at him and see the shaking little puppy he is?

“i quite like you, harry. you’re different.” louis says, voice sweet in harry’s ears. he tries not to let it settle into his heart. he doesn’t want to take it as a compliment, get his little hopes up as high as clouds only to be blown back down again. but louis’ just so goddamned gorgeous and already fills the spaces in between the cracks of harry’s mind, sort of rubbing the edges with little tingles like earthquakes in his bones.

“you don’t know me.” he points out. he chooses to leave out the part that he definitely knows louis. not just because he’s quidditch champion.

“but i notice you.”

and maybe that’s the deadline. maybe that’s the mark that needed to be crossed because now suddenly harry feels a whole lot better about… well, everything. chances are louis’ feeding him total bullshit but at this moment, when louis’ fingertips brush his own and send tiny shocks into his skin, he doesn’t have time to care.

except for one thing.

“why’d you ask me to come here?” he lets the question slip.

“you told me it was okay if i didn’t win.” louis replies quickly, as if he’d been expecting exactly this to happen. “that it wouldn’t be my fault.”

harry’s face scrunches, obviously not understanding. louis smiles, more so to himself, and takes another step closer (merlin, is that even possible).

“everyone’s always telling me to win. and like, it’s frustrating. so bloody frustrating because it’s like they all rely on me. no one’s ever told me to not worry about winning, that it wouldn’t be my fault if we didn’t.”

harry freezes, words tangling in his throat. it makes him feel warm, entirely filled, when louis’ talking to him like this. like he trusts him. but there’s a glint of something else in his voice and he seems almost… nervous? it’s hard to believe, hard to wrap harry’s chaotic mind around. he must drag on the silence for too long because louis’ expression changes and his eyes drop to his feet, and harry realises he’d do anything to see them again.

“shit. i’m sorry. i shouldn’t lay that sort of thing on you.” he mutters weakly. “i just- it’s stupid, really.”

“it’s not stupid.” harry interrupts abruptly and louis looks up quickly, earning a sigh of bliss from harry because fuck, those eyes. “you’re the best player at hogwarts. i think everyone just has high hopes for you. they believe in you. it wouldn’t be your fault if slytherin lost. heck, huffelpuff loses all the bloody time and we still celebrate like we’ve won the world cup.”

“you’re a strange bunch, aren’t you?” louis half-smiles.

“i guess they had to put the strange ones somewhere.” they fall silent and their smiles are genuine, friendship lingering between. but when there’s still room for something more, people tend to get greedy. so when louis’ hand slips under the sleeve of his robe and harry surely regrets layering a long sleeve underneath that morning, the air shifts.

“promise not to freak if i kiss you?”

harry barely has time to squeak a reply, or at least nod before louis’ tugging on his hips to bring them closer and there’s a soft touching of lips, eyelids falling shut immediately. it’s simple, sweet and really nice. really really nice. and it’s new. it makes its way down harry’s throat, sinking into his veins and pulsing through his entire body, tingling his fingertips. his arms wrap loosely around louis’ neck and it feels comfortable, the feeling welcoming.

his mind seems to stutter, not registering what his body has already begun melting into. but when louis crashes simplicity with the slick of his tongue across harry’s bottom lip, his mind jump starts into this circling of thoughts. he remembers, from what he’s read in books or seen on movies, that this would be a good time to open his mouth. so he does. and boy if it isn’t one of the greatest things he’s experienced.

he tries not to scream, blush to high hopes like peter pan and shoot off into the sky, when tongues meet eagerly in the middle. he likes to think he has some sort of mental experience, that he’s read and heard enough of zayn’s stories. but all preparation for what comes next gets tossed when louis’ fingers work their way up his torso and tangle into his hair, tugging lightly and rubbing his scalp.

then basically, he’s gone.

his thoughts fade and he’s left this giant human goo thing. at least that’s how he feels inside. their lips move against the others perfectly, skin burning under every touch and each movement more welcome than the one before. there’s dots behind closed eyes, flashing everywhere and harry sees them as tiny stars, flickering wonderfully.

there’s a moment where hands jumble and shake and pull desperately, and when harry finally catches up his robe lays discarded on the muddy ground. that’s when he knows for sure where this could be leading to and it’s quickly decided he really fucking wants things to follow that road. he leaves louis’ lips, pulling back with a pop and settling straight for louis’ olive skinned neck.

he’s not really sure what he’s doing, but he figures it’s good when he hears a breathy moan from above and a hand slips from his hair to his hips, thumb digging into the skin approvingly. he licks and bites and does anything his mouth allows.

his chest burns, like a fire in his core and it feeds off louis. every touch, every kiss, everything the boy does ignites it even more.

he briefly wonders if anyone’s walked by, seen the two wrapped into one. he wonders what people would think. what they’d tell their friends. but shit, it’s so hard to bring himself to care when louis’ hands are at the hem of his pants, untucking his shirt clumsily, fiddling with the button and-

“is this okay?” it’s a bit late, really, for louis to be asking permission when he’s already got a hand down harry’s pants, swiping a thumb over his tip.

“fuck.” is all harry can possibly manage before they’re glued together again, lips colliding hungrily. he breathes heavily against louis’ lips and he can feel the smirk, feel the way louis’ body reacts just as desperate as his own.

after several quick moments of repetitive movements, louis once again pulls away and harry waits for what he’s going to say, mentally crossing his fingers that he’s not going to back out now. but he only sends him a quick smile before he’s lowered to his knees and harry doesn’t need books or movies to even get a hint of what comes next. plus, he hates to say it, but he’s heard the rumours of louis and his games. if this is what comes along, then harry finds he’s more than happy to play along.

the cool breeze hits his bare thighs, but soon disappears when they’re planted with soft kisses and heated breath. his head hits the wall, leaning back against the bricks helplessly when lips, the same ones he had against his mouth merely minutes before, wrap around him warmly.

he’d never experienced a thing like this, having only his right hand to bear with, but something about the way louis’ approaching the entire thing with a delicate but heart racing pattern made him wonder if all blow jobs were this mind blowing. or if louis was just really fucking amazing. and when he finally takes the chance to peer down at the feather haired boy, blue eyes looking up at him brightly as he bobs, he settles on the latter.

when the flame in his stomach burns hotter, skin tightening around him and his breath is short and heavy until he can’t supress the feeling anymore, he braces himself by tangling his hands in louis’ hair, gripping tightly. louis must take that as a sign because he picks up pace, deep throating with speed and harry whimpers helplessly, nails digging into skin and body arching off the wall as he spills into the back of louis’ throat.

louis swallows with ease and harry pants, breathless and body lanky. now he definitely has to pay him back sometime.

there’s a moment after louis pulls off, harry falling from his high, and doing harry’s pants up again (like a real gentlemen) when they just stare at each other, smiling naturally.

“that- that was brilliant.” harry says weakly and louis half chuckles.

“well i certainly hope so.” and he leans forward, pressing a chaste like kiss to harry’s chin.

“why did you- i mean, were you planning that?” harry babbles, giving into the curiosity.

“not exactly. obviously i didn’t ask you here to chat about the weather.” he says with a smirk. “but i didn’t- i’m not like people say i am. sure, i asked you here to see what could happen because to be honest, you’re quite cute. and i’ve maybe had my eye on you for a while. just, don’t think i did this because I simply felt like it. i don’t want to be that sort of person.”

harry soaks the words in like a sponge, his mind racing to register what’s just been said. louis has had his eye on him for a while. now if that wasn’t the craziest but greatest thing he’s ever heard then he had no idea. he suddenly feels a lot more confident. well actually, it’s more a fuck load. louis tomlinson just sucked his cock and now he’s telling him he’s cute. no need for the sun to come out tomorrow because it’s already burning right now.

“so,” he attempts a smirk, still leaning against the tower behind him, left foot tucked behind right. “you’re saying this won’t happen again?”

louis’ expression blanks, impassive to harry. “no-i mean, yes. well-i don’t know. i didn’t mean it like that, i just-you-“

“i wouldn’t mind if it did. i’ve sort of had my eye on you for a while too.” he admits. it feels good to get it off his chest and he wonders why he was so afraid to confront louis years ago.

“okay.”

it’s not awkward. maybe if somebody walked by it may look that way. but it feels far from it. the air is calm and despite the events just happened, there’s still a sweet simplicity amongst the whole thing. and harry realises that sort of thing is hard to find with someone.

“we could hang out. or something.” harry suggests nervously.

“yeah.” louis bends over to scoop harry’s robe from the ground, which had long gone been forgotten. “you should probably take this back to your dorm, it’s a bit dirty. we can go for butter beer afterwards. my shout.”

harry takes the robe from him, hand pausing mid-air when he realises what louis’ offered.

“like a-erm, sort of like a-“

“date?” louis finishes. and it’s so cliché, already filling the spaces harry’s made. “yeah, sort of like a date. if you want.”

and that’s that really. harry nods enthusiastically, smiling like there’s no tomorrow. but in reality, there will be a tomorrow, and if louis holds to any part of that then harry thinks he might not be able to ever stop smiling.


End file.
